


Like a Happy Family

by Ertal77



Category: 91 Days (Anime)
Genre: M/M, canon angst, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 20:37:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9018640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ertal77/pseuds/Ertal77
Summary: Ronaldo would do absolutely anything to ensure the façade of a happy family never drops.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WattStalf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WattStalf/gifts).



> This work is my Secret Santa gift for Harleyquinzel. 
> 
> I hope you like it!! *blows kiss*

Sunset was starting to fall over Lawless at the other side of the windows, painting the room in light and shadows, in black and white. Frate sipped from his glass, shaking the amber liquid before gulping it down. The whisky burned his throat, but it was a welcomed pain. It suited the ache in his chest, and in fact it helped to alleviate it, so he drank to the last drop of the liquor. He barely noticed the door opening.

The ceiling lamp was switched on; Frate blinked and covered his eyes.

“Oh, please, turn it off again…”

The plea was heard and the room was darkened again. The man at the door huffed in annoyance and walked closer to Frate, racketing on his step, putting aside all the unnecessary items that barred his way.

“Honestly, Frate…” the man complained. “What’s wrong with you? This room is a mess!” Frate didn’t answer. He pretended to stare at the shadows beyond the window, the trees and the road almost swallowed by the darkness by then. The man sighed and sat by his side, on the window sill. “I don’t get why you are always hiding here…”

“I’m not hiding, Ronaldo,” he whispered. His voice sounded more like a whine than like the convincing assertion he had intended, but he couldn’t help it.

The man –Ronaldo- huffed again and retrieved the whisky bottle that lied on the side table. He poured a squirt on Frate’s empty glass and, since there wasn’t any other glass at sight, he resorted to drink a gulp directly from the bottle. It was good, a nice imported whisky, even better than that “Lawless Heaven” that had ensured Nero’s return to the family and had kept him alive.

“Well, it seems so! It’s what our men will think, if you don’t walk out here and let them see you. You are going to be the Don, Frate, have it in mind and never forget it! Now you have a public image to keep. Sitting here all day, shrouded in darkness, won’t do you any good. Why don’t you keep us company at dinner today? Only your father, Fio, you and me: a loving family!”

Frate shrugged and sipped again from his glass. He didn’t dare to look back at Ronaldo, afraid of what the man would read if he could look into his eyes. Ronaldo could always read him too well.

“When was the last time you saw your sister anyway? Tsk… Seriously… You used to be so cheerful…”

“Me?”

“Yes! This house was full of light whenever I came visiting before. And of laughter, and guests… I remember the first time ever I saw you, you know?” He had all of Frate’s attention now; he had even turned to look at Ronaldo, surprised by the sudden memory. “It was at a party, do you remember? That time with the barbecue in the garden? I must have been perhaps twelve, so you were…”

“Ten.”

Ronaldo nodded, twitching the corners of his mouth in a grin.

“Ten. You wore a blue suit with a tie, and you were incredibly blond and cute. Both your sister and you looked like angels.” He studied Frate with the corner of his eye; the young man’s cheeks had turned deeply red at the compliment. “And you were laughing and smiling the whole party. You were so _charming_. That’s the Frate I want to see, the Frate everybody looks forward to seeing. Why don’t you smile more?”

Frate looked aside and studied his own hands. There was a subtle tremor there; they weren’t steady hands anymore. He shook his head in denial.

“I… I can’t.”

Ronaldo went closer, until their knees were bumping on the seat.

“Why? That’s what I don’t get. I know you were worried because you had to kill your brother, but now that’s solved! You don’t have to do it anymore, so you can relax and enjoy your place of honor in the family.”

“He… He is going to murder me.”

“Who?”

“Nero! Nero will!” His voice had raised a tad too much. He fought to keep it low and steady and started again. “I can see it in his face every time he looks at me: he is going to kill me. He’s planning it, he will do it!”

Ronaldo raised an eyebrow but didn’t say a word. Instead, he threw an arm around Frate’s shoulders and pulled him closer.

“You are too tense and your imagination is playing tricks on you… Why would he do such a thing? You are his little brother after all. Fio wouldn’t speak to him again if he dared to even think of that. And who would be so bold to upset a pregnant woman?” His hand moved to those dirty locks of blond hair, running through them, stroking Frate’s scalp. The young man closed his eyes and leaned in to his touch. “Are you taking that stuff I gave you the other day? Do you need more?” Frate nodded. “Then I’ll bring you more later. You’ll see, that will help you to stay calm and keep a cool head.”

He leaned closer and kissed the boy on his temple. The young man turned his face with his eyes still closed, searching for his mouth. Ronaldo licked the corners of those lips before venturing his tongue inside, letting Frate drink from him like a drowning man. The boy hooked his arms around Ronaldo’s neck and dominated the kiss, licking and sucking and putting his tongue deep inside, searching for more, more… More what? Frate himself couldn’t tell. All the saliva and the gums in the world wouldn’t cure his desperation, but he could try… He could search for oblivion in Ronaldo’s mouth, he could melt in his arms and forget about everything. When they were kissing there wasn’t more Nero, there wasn’t more Galassias, there wasn’t more Lawless or family or alcohol or even more Ronaldo or more Frate… There was only warmth and humidity, and that tug on his lower half that threatened to let go and embarrass himself.

And there was suddenly a hand on his belt, and an unbuttoned crotch, and he complained aloud, because he was supposed to complain. He didn’t want to say the name of his sister, though, afraid the name would work as an effective charm and Ronaldo would stop and leave.

“We… We shouldn’t be doing this…” he whispered instead.

Ronaldo shushed him, sucking his neck, just below his earlobe, a place he already knew that turned Frate into a shuddering mess.

“Don’t think about it… Stop worrying already…” Ronaldo muttered against his skin.

And he obeyed, of course. He always obeyed. It was easier that way, resorting to only feel and not thinking at all. Feel the warm fingers brushing against his pubes and slithering downwards, until they closed around his shaft, hot and hard by then, and started to stroke him, pulling the foreskin and making him gasp. He clutched Ronaldo’s shoulders for balance, feeling his knees go weak, and felt glad of being half sitting on the window sill, where he could just open his legs wide, throwing a thigh over Ronaldo’s one, and enjoy the sensations of his warm lower half.

“Everything is going to be okay…” Ronaldo whispered on his ear, while his strokes turned more definite and determined, with a rhythm of their own, one that prompted goose bumps on Frate’s skin and made his whole body feel hot. “You will be the next Don, and I will be by your side, always, and together we will rule this town. Lawless will be ours to play with! You will see, Frate, just be patient and trust in me…”

Frate moaned loudly, bucking his hips in time with Ronaldo’s pumps. It was surely wrong, Ronaldo was his sister’s husband, for God’s sake, and he was a man; they shouldn’t be doing that… Then, why did it feel so good? All his beliefs had turned inside out during those last months. Everything he had firmly believed his whole life… ‘ _I should really confess in church next Sunday…_ ’ he thought. Although he knew perfectly well he wouldn’t dare to tell the priest about that. Not when he knew the priest would ask him if he was repented and ashamed of his acts, and he wouldn’t be able to give an honest answer. Because he was ashamed, yes, but he didn’t regret the turn of events that brought Ronaldo to his side, to his intimacy. There was nothing better than that. Nothing better than those moments together, with Ronaldo’s tongue playing against his Adam’s apple and his hand pumping him firmly, up and down, up and down, giving him pleasure until he felt as if his brain had melted and everything around him was liquid.

“Don’t leave me…” he begged, between ragged gasps, “please stay by my side, promise you will never leave me…”

“Of course, never!”

Ronaldo met his mouth with tongue and teeth, caressing his gums and his taste buds, reaching deep until they were a messy mix of saliva and sighs. The hand on his dick slowed down for a while, pressing his slit on the way up, but after a minute it sped again, the strokes fast and long, hard, almost as hard as when he did it on his own, when he was alone in his bedroom at night, imagining Ronaldo and all the other things they could do together. The pleasure suddenly skyrocketed and he cried out, closing his eyes tightly and clutching Ronaldo’s torso. He needed to feel him right then, make him fill his whole world, inhale his scent, swallow his saliva. Ronaldo was the only thing that existed in the universe the moment he reached his orgasm.

And when he went down from his high, there was a pair of strong, manly arms around him, and Ronaldo’s comforting shoulder under his face. Everything was alright. Frate sighed in relief.

His brother-in-law kissed his cheek and let him go with a tiny smile. He took a handkerchief from a pocket and cleaned the semen off his hands.

“Now, time to go out of your den, right? Come one, let’s clean up, change clothes and have dinner together. Like a happy family.”

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
